Thursday, 6 September 2012

Frogs outside Barbischio (Peter Porter)

Some notes on Peter Porter’s poem ‘Frogs outside Barbischio’

Barbischio is part of Chianti in the heart of Tuscany, as is
evident from the descriptions in the poem too, so we are in the Porter
‘paradise’ of Italy. As well as being about frogs, the poem has certain humans
who are frogs, frogs who are engaged in the activity of art, and in particular
writing. In my view, the grandfather frog is PP wistfully looking at his
younger self, the frog who writes his anatomy of melancholy. Once more, 17th
century England meets 20th century Italy: ‘The Anatomy of
Melancholy’ (1621) is a famous work by Robert Burton.

I am in absolutely no doubt that Basho’s famous haiku is
behind this poem, even down to the inference at the end that the grandfather
frog has also gone kerplop into the water, only his stick still floating on the
surface. I would say it is a reading of the Basho, and to appreciate the Porter
it helps to know what Basho’s haiku is doing. Haiku is a form that evolved from
Zen koan, which are poetic sayings meant to express “the all that there is” and
the “purposeless minute” noted by PP in his own poem. The frog dropping into
the pond depicts the Buddhist idea of everything existing in the Void. The poem
also is fairly certainly erotic, a sign of procreation, of fertility. PP is
interested in its creative meaning too: just as the frog makes sounds and
creates rings through its actions, so the writer “traces” his anatomy of
melancholy, coming up with “incision and sign”, which are the things he leaves
behind when he dies. Just as Basho leaves behind his wise haiku, so PP leaves
behind ‘Frogs outside Barbischio’, which I think is what is meant by the final
three lines.

All of these meanings, and more, are there in the Basho, if
you want to see them. You can make of the haiku whatever you like, people have
been for centuries. Here is a link to no less than thirty-one translations of
the 17 syllables: http://www.bopsecrets.org/gateway/passages/basho-frog.htm

In this context, I find the parodist Gibon Sengai’s
(1750-1837) poem in the essay that follows apposite in this case:

The old pond!

Basho jumps in,

the sound of water.

One could as well interpret PP’s poem in the following
internal rhyming way: